


A First Time for Everything

by fleshnbloodskeletons



Category: OC - Fandom, Original Works
Genre: Café, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Reader Insert, Self Insert, Virgin sex, Zombie, date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshnbloodskeletons/pseuds/fleshnbloodskeletons
Summary: A weird little non-canonical one shot self insert story about going on a date with my undead Victorian dandy, Vincent.
Relationships: Reader x Vincent Dodge
Kudos: 23





	A First Time for Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This got really horny really fast I’m sorry

It was a quarter past three. He was late.  
You were trying not to feel anxious-- after all, it wasn’t the first time you'd been stood up for a date. It wasn’t that you had terrible luck with romance, you just never seem to meet guys worth pursuing, or who felt the same about you. Small towns are hard to find companionship in, and honestly you were about ready to give up altogether if your friend, Jaqueline, hadn’t offered to set you up with a friend of hers for a little afternoon coffee shop date.

“I promise, he’s a fuckin’ doll. You’ll love him.” She’d said, grinning at you mischievously. “Just go out to get a drink or something, chat for a bit. It’s not like you have to marry the dude.”  
You’d agreed hesitantly just to get her off your back, and sure enough a few days later you’d gotten a rather stiff phone call from a man with a soft british accent. He’d introduced himself as Vincent, and asked if you’d like to join him at the Cornerside Cafe on friday, at 3pm sharp.  
Not really knowing what else to do but go along with it, you told him why not. And here you were, Friday afternoon, waiting for this mysterious Englishman to show himself.

You sat down glumly on a couch and texted Jackie.

“Dude. Where tf is this guy???”  
“is he not there yet? He left like an hour ago idk where he is then :/“

Grumbling, you dropped your phone on your stomach and rubbed your eyes tiredly. Whatever. It’s no big deal if some jackass doesn’t show for a first date, you’ll just have to think twice when Jackie tries to set you up next time--

Bzzzzzrt!

You jumped. The apartment door buzzer went off and you scrambled to your feet, heart pumping suddenly. You flashed through what you were wearing one last time-- a loose but comfortable sweater over a black tank top, a pair of black jeans, sneakers-- your face was clean, with minimal makeup. Hair brushed, but could use a wash. Ehhh…. You looked fine. You grabbed the door and swung it open, putting on a playful smile to greet your mystery man.

“Hey, you finally showed--”  
You paused as soon as you set eyes on him.

The man in front of you was insanely tall, he must have been pushing six-foot-four. He was gaunt as hell, with tired eyes circled with dark purple rings, and his hair was lank and stringy, feathered down the back of his neck where it just met the stiff white collar of his shirt. His skin was sallow, almost green, and you noticed a small strand of snot dripping down from his large nose. Eww…?  
He had big, spiderlike hands with long, delicate fingers that had a slight bluish tint to them and he was wearing a pressed white shirt, a black tie, and a dark grey sweater vest, both of which snugly fit over a portly belly that seemed entirely out of proportion to the rest of his skinny, scarecrow-esque frame.  
His pants were black as well, as seemed just a mite too small, cutting off just an inch or so above his ankle.  
He looked down at you inquisitively, those wide green eyes drilling into you as if you would disappear if he looked away. “G-good evening, miss! I do hope I’ve found you in good health and fair spirits! It’s me! Vincent Dodge.”

You blanked for a second, still trying to figure out what it was about this fellow that… intrigued you so. You stammered, not wanting to leave him hanging on proprieties. “Yeah, uh. Come in. Thanks. Come in.”

Vincent curiously stepped into your apartment, ducking a bit to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe. “What a lovely little home for a single lady as yourself! All alone, though, it must be so lonely.”

You turned away quickly, reaching for your phone. “Yeah-- I uh, have three housemates. Two of ‘em are working right now and Jason is sleeping or something. Don’t worry.”

“Ah,” Vincent said mildly. He said down on a chair, his long legs awkwardly bending to fit comfortably in the seat.

“JACKIE.”  
“?”  
“IS VINCENT. DEAD????”  
“lmao”

You fumed a little. Jackie, you were sure never to forget, was a witch. Specifically a necromancer. She was known to bring her little… experiments... along with her to your hangouts, whether it was a reanimated mouse or a cat she’d brought back to life with some dark magic. And knowing her, Vincent here was probably one of her little schemes. It would explain his posh personality and corpsey visage. 

“Jackie oh my god just answer the question”  
“ok yeah so I miiiiight have reanimated one of the old Dodge guys from the Eastglen estate into a thrall”  
“DUDE”  
“I told you he’s a doll tho. Just humor him for a bit, if you don’t like it you’ll never have to see him again, cross my heart.”

You sighed and slipped your phone into your pocket, resting your chin on your hand thoughtfully and looking at your guest. 

Vincent was sitting quietly and intently, thin hands folded neatly on his lap. He looked at you inquisitively, those green eyes incredibly bright and lively for a zombie. 

“Alright, miss. I suppose it would be prudent to ask if you’d like to move along on our way to the cafe?”

You took a deep breath and stood up, stretching a bit.

“Yeah. Sure let’s go, might as well now than never.”

Vincent grinned broadly, pale lips stretching over his pronounced overbite. He stood up as well, and you grabbed your wallet and keys from the coffee table before swinging open the door. 

“May I?” Vincent gestured to your arm and you assumed he was asking to take you by it and walk hand in hand with you. 

“...not yet. Let’s… get out the door first. Then we’ll see.” 

He seemed to fade a little at this, and you felt a bit bad about it. You hoped you weren’t being too harsh on him. He was just so strange, you needed a moment to take it all in before you started to let this dandy dead man hold your hand. Even if he was cute. In a… weird, sickly way. 

The two of you stepped outside into the crisp autumn air and you locked the door behind you before turning to Vincent and clapping your hands together. 

“Right. So… the cafe is like, just down the street. You can actually see it from here.”

You pointed down the road at a warm orangey lit cafe that sat nestled on the corner of the central street of the town. Swellake Hollow was a very small village, built entirely along one long strip street that led eventually up to the historic Eastglen Estate and further onward, East Lake, and your apartment was right smack dab in the middle of its bustling, cozy little downtown. 

“Delightful, delightful! Yes, please, let’s go.” Vincent straightened up a bit and brushed his hair back with his hands quickly and the two of you started off, conversation limited and garnering just a few strange looks from passers by on the sidewalk. 

Vincent didn’t seem to mind these looks, he was probably used to them at this point, but you felt just a little uncomfortable. You knew they weren’t looking at you really, it was mostly your lanky companion in his darkly formal attire and waxy complexion who drew their attention, and you honestly couldn’t blame them. You found yourself stealing glances at him every few steps, trying not to let him notice. 

You found yourself, despite your initial hesitations, growing more and more attracted to this unusual man by the minute. Maybe it was his weirdly square jawline or his towering height, or the soft friendliness in his eyes, but he was alluring to you, and you felt your cheeks warm up when he suddenly turned his head to look at you.

“Are you cold…? Your face is awfully red, miss. I would hate to see you fall ill on my watch.” His brow furrowed worriedly as he spoke and he extended his arm to you.  
“I may not provide the most heat but I would feel terrible if I didn’t offer my arm to you as we walk, regardless.” 

You jerked your head away and aggressively stared at the sidewalk at your strode forward, feeling your ears burning up too now.  
“God— no, no. I’m fine. It’s not even cold. Must be fall allergies or… something.”

He withdrew his arm again and tilted his head for a moment, but soon resumed his usual pace, and the two of you reached the cafe. Vincent held the door for you politely, smiling as you walked in before him, and after briefly ordering your drinks (hot chocolate for you and tea for him) you both sat down at the quietest side of the cafe at a comfy window booth. 

Vincent stared out the window curiously as you waited for your drinks. He seems enamored with everything around him, and it took you a moment to remember he wasn’t from this time at all. 

“Your modern world is so fascinating,” he said suddenly, still looking out the window. “Miss Jackie has shown me so much of the world's advancements already but still every day I’m enchanted with even the most mundane of inventions. Cars for example! What incredible things! And there are so many variations…”

He rambled on, almost to himself, for a while, and you just… took him in. You sighed gently and watched him go on about cars, then lightbulbs, radio, movies, fashion. Just as he finished excitedly discussing one thing he would see or remember another and enthusiastically give a full review of said item from his perspective as someone who tumbled out of the 1840s. 

It was adorable. 

A waitress sauntered over and placed your drinks down, smiling at you and eyeing Vincent for a second too long before saying quickly “Enjoy!” and scurrying back to the kitchen. You felt your ears get hot again as you pulled your cocoa in close and cupped the mug in your hands, feeling the warmth spread across your fingers. 

“Even the tea is different here,” he said, staring at his own drink contentedly. “But not in a bad way!” He added, lifting the mug and sipping it gingerly. “You know, I adore tea. I know it’s not quite correct to drink it out of these heavy mugs but I have to say it’s quite growing on me, Miss Jackie has even helped me start collecting them! Ones with little sayings or pictures on them, or sculpted into strange shapes. I have one that resembles the cat Garfield, from the newspaper comics—“ 

You raised an eyebrow, and opened your mouth to say something but immediately realized it would probably be rude and looked away. 

He swallowed and cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes intent on you. “Were you looking to say something, miss? I’m sorry, I fear I’ve been prattling on too long now, I’m loathe to do so if no one reigns me in to keep my rambling in check. Please, speak your piece.”

“It’s… it’s nothing really. Don’t sweat it.”

He took another sip of his tea. “Oh come now, don’t be shy! I shouldn’t lay claim to so much of our time together with my senseless musings.” 

His manner of speech was so goddamn cute. Curse you and your weakness for articulate men.  
“I’m just curious,” you blurted out, “are you… dead dead, or like… still kind of alive… or… like how does it work? How can you drink?”

A sad smile crept across Vincent’s face and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands, knobby elbows balanced on the wooden table. “Ah, I see… yes, I figured at some point you’d be curious about my rather odd situation, and it’s only fair I humor any and all questions.”

You sipped your own cocoa and stared back at him earnestly. You couldn’t help it. He was enchanting, and you couldn’t believe you’d felt so apprehensive about him just a scant hour before. His voice was so calming, his disposition so welcoming. 

“Miss Jackie, you see, revived me from my resting place in my family’s cemetery in Eastglen estate. Now that was a harrowing tale for another time— such horror, such emotion!— but important nonetheless. A philosophical and physical rebirth, spat back into the world from the earth's womb under the guidance of sister Moon…ah, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

He sniffed and leaned in, looking around furtively as if to make sure no one else was eavesdropping.  
“I suppose to answer your question, yes. I’m technically dead. Cold as the grave, I’m afraid. But it’s really not all that bad. Miss Jackie keeps me...fresh, you see. Every week or so I start to...well. Decompose. I am only kept ‘living’ through the magic she employed by the full moon, and my earthly body still abides by earthly laws. She has to perform another spell to turn back the clock and keep me from quite literally falling apart. Ah if only you could see me freshly renewed! I look as good as I did on the day I died, none of this greenish skin and bloating nonsense.”

You felt like you should be repulsed by the fact he was a walking corpse but you strangely weren’t. He was just so charming, so self aware. Soft.

“As for eating and whatnot. I can technically still eat and drink, however I can’t digest anything…I really only have muscle and nerve function, my lungs and heart and other organs don’t work at all. If I decide to consume food again on this mortal plane I need to be careful since what goes down must come up again, lest it start to rot in my stomach. It’s quite unpleasant. It’s a blessing tea is so easy for me— I drink it hot and later when it’s cooled down i just… well you know. Spit it back up again.”

“Fascinating,” you mumble, finishing your own cocoa, feeling rather embarrassed that you’d spaced out for a moment there during Vincent’s informative monologue. To your credit, you were daydreaming about sitting close next to him on a soft bed and slowly, deeply kissing him, imaging his clammy hands roving under your shirt and finding your breasts, those long fingers teasing your nipples and making them perk up from the cold...The thought was still enough to send a jolt down your spine and a throbbing ache through your most private of places, and you quickly tried to snap out of it.

“I’m terribly sorry. I must be boring you,” he said glumly, leaning back, and swirling his tea around in his mug. “My apologies for keeping the subject at hand so unappealing, such is the unfortunate reality of my humble existence. Perhaps we should find something else to discuss?”

You sighed deeply and closed your eyes, trying to shake off those pesky naughty thoughts and said drily, “Yeah. Sure… uh, I’m sorry you’re dead by the way… sucks.” 

He smiled in a melancholy way and nodded a thank you. “It’s really nothing, worry not too much for me. It’s rather nice not having to deal with all the frustrations of mortal life again.” He spoke lightly, but you could detect a change in his disposition from this point onward. He seemed a bit aloof, almost like he felt like his presence was no longer appreciated. You felt a curl of regret snake its way up your chest and settle solidly in your throat.

The conversation, regrettably, died off quickly after that, and his sudden somber shift in disposition didn’t help your rampaging imagination. You started to, uncontrollably, imagine him as the brooding master of some old 19th century mansion, wearing smartly tailored tailcoats and cravats, his elegant hands gently playing at a pianoforte in the dimly lit sitting room. You instinctively squeezed your legs together and gripped the now empty mug a little tighter.

“Oh yes, please. I’ll take the bill.”

You snapped back to reality again to see Vincent speaking to the waitress. He seemed a bit down, the vim and vigor so present in his face noticeably missing now. Fuck, I hope I didn’t offend him or anything...

You reached for your wallet to take out payment for your drink but Vincent shooed your hand away stiffly.  
“It’s fine, miss. It’s only polite for me to cover the dues for tonight’s order. Think nothing of it.”  
His voice was clipped and calm but you could sense he was a bit impatient to leave. He pulled out his own wallet and set down a neatly folded bunch of bills and stood up, pulling his jacket back on curtly.

“Th-thanks,” you mutter, feeling your face go red yet again. You stood up stiffly and stood up with Vincent, the two of you briefly thanking the staff before exiting the cafe.

Outside, it was dark already. It was late fall and the sun set early, and the cold was creeping in from all sides now. Despite your thick sweater, it still bit at you, and the awkward silence perpetuated by the disconnect between you and your date only served to make it worse.

The streets were gently illuminated by orange and yellow lights while the sky hung over in various shades of soft grey-blue. Your breath fogged in front of your face and your teeth chattered. You stole a quick glance at Vincent as you strode back to your apartment and saw him with his brow furrowed, lips pursed. You’d really fucked it up this time. 

He seemed to notice that you were shivering because he suddenly reached out but caught himself, tightening his hand into a restrained fist and pushing it back into his pocket and moving forward without a word.

You felt that curling regret again and your eyes stung. He was so sweet, so kind, and you made him feel...unwanted. And that really wasn’t your intention at all. You choked a bit on the cold air and slowly walked a bit closer to him, until your arms were almost brushing against eachother.

He looked down without moving his head, eyes darting over you. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. A loose strand of his dark hair dipped over his forehead and set your stomach ablaze with a storm of butterflies. He looked so dashing.

You passed by the last of the shops before the residential section of Main St. and you broke, nestling yourself into Vincent’s side and grabbing his arm with both of yours, overwhelmed with emotion. You wanted to hold this spindly, cold man, and never let him go.  
You couldn’t believe only a few hours ago you’d been disgusted by him-- all you wanted now was to be close to him, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it.  
He smelled… different, like cologne and freshly pressed clothes, and a tart, earthy smell you couldn’t quite recognize.

“Wh-- excuse-- miss!!”  
Vincent jumped at your sudden affection but he quickly settled down, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close as you neared your apartment door.  
By the time you reached your house you were breathing heavily, knuckles white from holding so tight to his jacket, throat sore from swallowing the lump that seemed to have made a home there.

“Well. Here we are, miss.” Vincent peeled you away from him and sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I do...apologize for my behavior. I was afraid of being too eccentric for you throughout the night. I see now that that was...not the case.”

You pushed yourself close to him again, your chest pressed against his, staring up into his eyes. “No. No, Vincent, I’m sorry. I was rude. I didn’t pay you any attention, and I’m sorry. I had a lovely, lovely time. I really did.” You paused again and buried your face in his chest.

Vincent blushed, or he would have if he had a pulse, and he shyly pushed you off of himself, adjusting his tie primly. “I--I see. I’m glad, miss. I had a good time too.”

You wrung your hands nervously, staring at his earnest, gaunt face in the dim light of the streetlamps outside the apartment. “Come inside with me,” you said quickly, barely realizing what you’d said before the words tumbled out of your mouth. “It’s dark...a-and cold. You should warm up before you go home for the night.”

You knew that he was technically dead and didn’t need to warm up at all, but you needed some kind of excuse to get him to follow you back inside, and this was the first thing that popped into your head.

Vincent seemed at the very least amused by your proposal and softened. “Sure, miss. If you insist. I supposed it wouldn’t be too improper of me to accept your kind hospitalities just for a while.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you unlocked the door to the apartment and led him inside.

Your other two roommates, Angelica and Roy, weren’t home yet, and from the dull snoring coming from his room, Jason was still fast asleep. Perfect. You took Vincent’s hands in yours and stood with him in the door stoop, staring into his pale face.

“Come with me,” you said breathlessly, tightening your grip and leaning in slightly. “Just for a moment. Please. I want to repay you for your kindness towards me tonight.”

He seemed to stiffen for a moment, his expression uncertain. He pulled away for a fraction of a moment, seeming to be unsure of what to say. His expression changed from hesitant to relenting and he relaxed, following your lead and walking gingerly down the hallway to your bedroom where you quietly closed the door behind the both of you and sat him down on the bed.

“Vincent….” you said softly, walking over and taking his head in your hands, staring deeply into those wide green eyes.  
He didn’t reply, but he let out a very quiet groan as your hands brushed over his face, sending a spark of adrenaline coursing through your core. God. You wanted him. Fuck the prudent details.

You leaned in suddenly and pressed your lips against his, and he jolted for a moment, shocked at your forwardness. He quickly subdued his apprehensions, however, and leaned into the kiss, parting his lips and letting your eager tongue explore the inside of his mouth.

You shuddered at the sensation-- he was cold, of course, and clammy, but his lips were soft. Your tongue caressed his teeth and tangled with his own, your heartbeat pounding in your chest and ears as you frenched this charming man.

You slowly pushed yourself on top of him, continuing the kiss and reaching up to stroke his hair. He moaned slightly again, his whole body seeming to relent and fold under your touch. His long arms reached up and wrapped around you and he pushed back into the kiss, both of your spit and tongues wrestling as you breathed in his scent.

His hands snaked over your thighs and held your hips for dear life, not daring to move any further up, and you gasped, reaching down and pulling his them under your shirt and onto your tits. His hands, too, were cold, but tender, and they massaged your sensitive breasts with surprising skill.  
“Ohh--m-miss…” Vincent groaned through the kiss, his eyes half closed.

You broke away from him, panting, trails of spit and snot connecting your mouths. Vincent’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and he looked up at your chest, his big hands easily cupping them underneath your hiked-up shirt. “I...This is most im-improper...We’ve only just met, miss…” He spoke softly, stuttering a bit. He was focused so entirely on your tits— it seemed to mesmerize him in a way, for he spoke of impropriety while feeling up a woman’s nipples, with her straddling his waist on her bed.

“Shhh,” you cooed, reaching up and stroking his cheek tenderly. “Don’t worry. No one has to know, it’s just you and me alone in here. I just want to keep you warm tonight.” You felt yourself uncontrollably grinding against his hips a little and went bright red again. You wondered if he could even get an erection…

Vincent seemed like he was about to say something but instead he sat up slightly and took one of your tits in his mouth, sucking on it like his afterlife depended on it. He slobbered on it like an animal, and you knew whatever inhibitions he had were quickly disappearing under the intense influence of titties.

You let out a little whine as he fondled your chest, biting your lip and bucking your hips desperately against him. Your panties were soaked through and your jeans were next. You needed to get these things off.

“Wait, Vincent-- just let me…” You pulled away from him and Vincent looked visibly distressed that you removed your nipple from his mouth, his wide glassy eyes following them like a laser pointer. You stood back, taking a deep, shaky breath, and peeled off your shirt all the way, letting your breasts fall naturally back in place. You dropped the discarded clothes on the floor and unbuttoned your pants next, slowly, watching Vincent’s reaction.

His expression was of pure and unbridled awe. It struck you then that it was quite possible that this was his first time seeing a woman naked, and you paused, a wry smile forming on your lips. You straightened up and put your hands on your hips, chuckling lightly. 

“Vincent,” you said coyly. “Are you...a virgin?” 

You already could tell the answer from the way he squirmed and scrambled to prop himself up on his elbows, glancing around the room as if to purposely avert his gaze from you.

“...Yes...b-but of course… I was saving myself for my wife, you know, if I was ever to be married I would want my beloved to have first claim to my body and all its pleasures.”

Somehow, the fact that this man had never sensually touched a woman’s body, had never even seen a pair of breasts, was insanely arousing to you. You glanced down between his legs and noticed, with a jolt of adrenaline, that he was in fact rocking a fat bulge in his pants. Then again he could just...always be like that, and you just never noticed (rigor mortis and whatnot) but you were fairly certain you would have certainly picked up on it prior had this been the case.

“Vinny~” you said softly, letting your pants fall to your ankles and kicking them off to the side, “are you able to get hard?”

He let out a little whimper as you got closer, leaning down above him. His gaze danced around the room for a moment before settling back on your gently swinging tits. “I-- well-- it’s...it’s. Complicated. I suppose.”

You bit your lower lip and slowly snaked your hand down his chest and belly until you felt an unmistakable boner stiffly tenting his pants. Your face flushed, feeling a wave of arousal blossom up from your core again and you flashed him a grin. “Doesn’t seem very complicated at all. Very...to the point, in fact.”

Vincent whined as you rubbed his dick through his trousers, bucking against you, his hands gripping the sheets under him. His eyes were half closed again, mouth agape, drool dripping down his tongue and neck. He was a mess. A hot mess.

You thought about him sliding it inside you, his knobby, awkward hands on your hips as he thrusts into you-- but before you caved to make those thoughts a reality, another idea crossed your mind.

You stopped squeezing his cock and crawled up a bit further, playfully starting to undo his tie. “Come on,” you whispered, pulling the it off his neck with a flourish and dropping it off the side of the bed before unbuttoning his collar. “Let’s get you out of these hot, heavy clothes, eh?”

Vincent stammered and wiggled under you as you undid his shirt and pulled off his sweater vest, revealing his pale, thin chest, complete with an adorable little patch of wispy dark hair between his admittedly bluish nipples. You caressed him gently, trailing kisses down his chest and onto his round little gut and working your hands along as well, tugging on his belt and slowly unbuckling it.

He was wearing a clean pair of tighty whiteys, his dick straining against the cotton fabric and twitching every few seconds. He was horny. You licked your lips briefly before yanking down his undies and letting it spring free.

Vincent’s cock was impressive, at least more so than you were expecting from such a sickly man. It was long, not too thick, and the head definitely looked more purple than red. He had quite a thick patch of curly dark hair around it, and perfectly sized balls tucked beneath it. You bit your lower lip again and leaned down, giving the very tip of it a slow, tender kiss.

Vincent bucked at the touch, his pelvis thrusting up towards your face, cock throbbing. You almost asked how it was possible, but thought better of it. You’re not going to question anything right now. You looked up at his face to see him gasping, his once neatly brushed hair flopping down messily over his forehead, face soaked in drool and snot. 

“How are you holding up, sir?” You asked playfully, wrapping your fingers snugly around his achingly hard dick and giving it a teasing pump.

Vincent leaned back again, spine arching slightly and his knees shooting up from the pleasure, letting out a very ungentlemanly moan.

“Very well it seems,” you murmured, stroking his cock a bit more, your mouth inching closer every moment. You wanted to really taste him, and after another minute or so of rubbing, you leaned down again and pushed your lips around it.

Vincent audibly gasped when you took him in your mouth and he resumed the desperate, instinctual humping. His dick had that same slightly musky, earthy scent as the rest of him, which clouded your brain with arousal. You bobbed your head on Vincent’s cold hard dick for quite some time, losing yourself in the rhythm and thoroughly enjoying the sensation of teasing the head in your mouth with your tongue. His frequent groans and moans were like music to your ears, and you tried to encourage him to be louder by whispering praise and kissing his legs and belly periodically as well as resuming the blowjob.

Eventually you slowly eased him out of your mouth, giving the tip one last lick and kiss, and sat up, crawling over Vincent’s panting body and laying down next to him. You smiled, looking directly into his eyes.

“Alright, Vinny. You had your fun. Now it’s my turn.”

He didn’t seem to understand for a moment until you reached down and pulled up one of his hands, kissed it briefly, still looking in his eyes, and pushed it down to rest on your pussy. 

His eyes widened. “M-miss...I’ve never…but…” his hand trailed nervously around your entrance, unsure of how to continue. 

“Just… do what feels natural.” You said gently, pushing against his touch already, internally begging him to push his long fingers inside you. You were soaking wet and needed relief, soon.

Vincent paused for a moment, looking anywhere but at your face, and then, slowly, he began to gently stroke you with all four of his fingers at once. After a moment of this he looked earnestly at your face to gauge your reaction. 

“Good. Good,” you said encouragingly. “But maybe try using just one or two at a time. And you can...feel around if you want. Experiment.”

Vincent didn’t say anything but looked away shyly, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. He hesitantly relaxed his hand and his thin fingers flexed against your folds, feeling around curiously. You sharply inhaled at the sensation, and your back arched a bit instinctively.  
He seemed to pick up that it felt good, and he rubbed you a bit more, his thumb tracing over your clit, making you whine a bit.  
“Miss, I do hate to speak with such vulgarity about your body, but— you… you’re. You’re so wet.”  
His voice cracked a little and he paused, sitting up and looking at you contemplatively.  
You stared up at him, breathing hard, about to snap at him to please continue. What was he doing now?  
He suddenly grabbed your waist and pulled you over slightly, propping you up on the pillows, before sitting back and gently pushing your legs apart, staring at your throbbing entrance.  
“....Vinny…” you whimpered, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. What was he waiting for? You didn’t like being teased.

Suddenly you felt something press against you and your eyes shot open to see Vincent laying across the mattress, his hands reaching up and grabbing onto your thighs, his face pressed firmly against your dripping pussy. His eyes were half lidded, head bobbing gently as you felt his slimy tongue exploring you. You felt a new wave of heat wash over you as you watched him lap at your in ecstasy. The sensation was indescribable, and intensely arousing. He might not have had much of a technique, but his passion made up for it, and he had more than enough of that to fuel his ravenous debauchery. 

Vincent ran his tongue up your entrance and licked your clit for a while, learning quickly from your stifled shrieks and twitching that it was a good place to focus the attention. He alternated sucking and flicking it for a bit, driving you insane with pleasure, before finally pulling away and sitting up again, his mouth and chin completely soaked in your juices, one particularly stubborn strand of it still connecting the two of you. 

You panted, looking up at him hungrily. He was still rock hard, his dick leaking precum now in thin drips down the shaft. You pushed your hips up at him invitingly.  
“C’mon, Vinny. Please.” You moaned, closing your eyes again. “Fuck me. I need it so bad.”

You weren’t normally one to be so forward and go so far on a first date, but this was a special case. Vincent was a special man. You almost felt like you had no choice but to desperately crave intimacy with him. It was like an intoxicating spell.

Vincent seemed to hesitate again. Those blasted 19th century sensibilities clouding his desires again. But it didn’t seem to last long because the next thing you knew he was leaning over you, his face inches above yours, arms bracing himself carefully on the bed as he poked your pussy with his dick, not quite putting it in yet. You held your breath, waiting. 

He seemed to be still fighting his conscious because he weakly humped you without penetrating first, his cock rubbing against your pubis with infuriatingly enticing strength, and you finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

You grunted and reached down, grabbing his dick, and guiding it to your soaked entrance. “Do it.” You said firmly, staring Vincent straight in the eyes. “I know you want to. Do it.”

Vincent paused for a split second, eyes boring into you, and then, with surprising force, he pushed into you.  
You yelped in surprise and intense relief from being filled. He seemed to pause again when he was inside you, just soaking in the moment. Then, a split second later, he pulled out a bit before slamming back into you. 

You wrapped your legs around him desperately, pushing back against him as he thrusted over and over, groaning and shuddering, his entire body shaking with pleasure. He seemed almost on the verge of tears. 

You were in absolute heaven, gasping and moaning his name as he fucked you, clawing at his back and sloppily kissing him all over his face and neck. His breathing (if that’s what it was, it certainly seemed like breathing) was ragged and uneven the further along he went, his dick twitching inside you. 

“Vincent… please… cum inside me…fuck, I want it so bad. I want it…” you kissed him deeply, pulling away and speaking with newfound confidence. “I… love you…” the words surprised you as you spoke them, but only in how sincerely you felt about them. You’d fallen hard for him, and this scandalous moment of passion made you realize it even more. 

Vincent’s eyes shot open at your words and he arched his back, pounding into you one last time. He let out a deep, guttural moan, and you felt his cock twitching deep inside you, and something cold filling you up. Right… corpse… cum. Apparently that was a thing.

With one last gasp, Vincent slid his cock out of you, already starting to go soft, and dripping with a mixture of both of your cum. You were breathing hard as well, and he collapsed next to you, looking dazed. 

You curled over into him, nuzzling his chest while his jizz leaked out of you.  
“That was absolutely breathtaking,” you said softly. “Thank you, Vincent.” 

He smiled weakly at you and kissed the top of your head softly. “You’re— you’re very much welcome, miss. I beg your forgiveness for these lewd acts performed with such impunity on you… after we only just met.” He tilted his head back slightly. “Even if you did request it, I worry that you acted only in the heat of passion, and now we shan’t be able to resume things as they were before this night.”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him lovingly, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Oh, please. You worry too much about these things, Vinny. Now let’s get some sleep. I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

He seemed to enjoy this idea thoroughly as he turned to you and grinned tiredly, pulling you close as well. “That sounds delightful, miss. Good night.”

“G’night, Vinny.”

“I— I love you.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
